Year 6 (First Draft) #Wattys2016

-Chapter 29-

  "You're kidding right?" Charlie asks, his laughter filling the main room. I glare at him. "That's crazy."

  "It's true," I say, setting my empty tray on the ground. "I was involved in street fighting. What's so surprising?" I ask, folding my arms over my chest. I had started to tell Charlie a little bit about my life on the streets, and the second I had mentioned street fighting, he had broken into a fit of laughter.

  "I just can't imagine you street fighting. You must have gone soft since you've been with us my friend," Charlie says, setting his empty tray down next to mine. Maybe he's right. I have definitely lost some of my spunk since I started to live here.

  "I can prove it to you," I say, sending him a sideways glance. He grins, waiting for me to say more.

  "And how can you prove it to me?" He asks, taking a sip of water. He doesn't look convinced, and I really want to wipe that smug grin off of his face.

  "Round up some of your best men," I say. "The fittest, the strongest, and maybe some random guys who are just looking for a fight. Bring them in, and after breakfast tomorrow morning, I'll fight them," I say, not really sure what I'm getting myself into. I haven't been in a street fight in over a year. This could be a complete disaster.

  "Sounds good," Charlie says, picking up our dirty dishes. "But I am going to warn you-being the guy that I am-that you're going to have some big competition. You better work out little lady," And with that, Charlie leaves to get rid of our dishes.

  I squirm under the weight of the iron bar, my arms feeling numb. Charlie told me if I wanted to be ready for tomorrow, I needed to be more conditioned. So, taking him up on his advice, I asked Paul if they had any weights laying around. He led me to a part of his workshop, and showed me that they actually have a little weight room. The walls are home to many different weights, and the floor is covered in other workout material. I scrounged up a few weights, and started to work out.

  At this point though, I am pretty sure I've overdone it. My arms feel like they'll bust any moment from being so tense. My legs are doing okay, even after I ran for a few miles, but my arms feel like they might fall off if I lift any more weights.

  "You 'bout done?" I hear Paul ask, his head poking in the door to the weight room. "I'm not trying to rush you or anything, but you look worn out. I'd take a break if I was you."

  I nod, setting the weight back on its spot on the wall. I sigh with relief, feeling the tension building in my arms. I haven't worked out this much in a long time.

  "That was quite a workout," Someone says to my left, and I spin around, not having noticed Kane watching my workout. "You look exhausted."

  I nod, rubbing my shoulders. Maybe I overdid it, but tomorrow when I fight with the men Charlie picks, I think that if I win, I might finally be fully accepted here. Maybe that's the only reason I'm doing all of this. To prove my strength. To gain acceptance from all the masculine figures I now live with.

  "Take a seat," Kane says, pointing to a metal chair just outside of the weight room. I don't need to be asked twice, and I take a seat, sagging against the back of the chair. Kane comes up behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders. He rubs his thumbs over my tired muscles, digging at the tension. "Who needs a spa when you can have a massage from yours truly?" Kane jokes.

  I lean back, letting Kane work at my weary muscles, sighing as the tension eases up. I nearly fall asleep a few times, proving how good Kane is at this. I can feel my eyelids growing heavy.